


Lonely Creatures

by LKKG



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Dark Fantasy, Magik - Freeform, lots of wounds and a little gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LKKG/pseuds/LKKG
Summary: A healer who's seen too much, and a boy who's seen too little.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 16
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine is going through a bit of a rough spot so here's a new work for you, arcaladiwoompa. Hope you like it.

Leorio smelled the blood before he saw it.

  
The iron tang saturated the air even through the rain; fresh and potent. Leorio hated the scent. He'd seen too much blood in his life. Seen too many injured, dying. Patched too many wounds. Failed to save too many.

  
But still, he had a creed to follow. He could refuse service to no one, nor could he refuse burial rights. Whomever or whatever this blood belonged to, he had to see to them, even though exhaustion lay heavy on his bones and sleep heavy on his lids.

  
He lit his lantern, doing his best to shield it from the rain, and searched for the telltale trail of red, following it to a hollowed tree. There was a great deal of it. That boded poorly.  
He crouched by the opening, pushing aside the leaves until he found flesh, cold and clammy, but smooth and human. He shut his eyes and searched for a pulse, feeling for blood pumping beneath his fingers.

  
There. It was faint, but there was a flow nonetheless. He scanned the body for the source of the pain, and found a large, nasty gash down the ribs of one side which he stabalized. He quickly unburied the rest of the person, hands only pausing for a moment when he uncovered a youthful, delicate face. He hated when his patients were young. It hurt to see what people would do to those who were weaker than themselves, those that deserved protection. He wrapped the tiny figure, either a child or a young adult, he couldn't tell which, in his blanket, lifting them into his arms and arranging his cloak over them to keep the rain off. It would do neither of them any good to freeze before they reached Leorio's home.

  
His patient felt lighter than goose down. He worried absently for their diet, though that was clearly irrelevant given their current condition. He carried them effortlessly to his door, nearly kicking it to get Gon's attention before remembering that the boy was off visiting his aunt for the month. He struggled to unlock and open the heavy wooden door without jostling the limp figure in his arms. Once he'd forced his way inside, he placed the patient and his lantern on his operating table, adjusting the blanket and then covering them in his cloak as well as he rushed to shut the door and get a fire started, his cold, trembling fingers needing to strike the flint three times before getting a spark. Once it was lit, he dropped the rest of his things and carefully saw to his patient.

  
He cut their clothes off, swallowing down the discomfort that always surfaced when he he had to do so without permission. The wound was long and deep across their side, he could see the white of bones through it. They were filthy from the mud, which he wipped away with a cloth, then with a second drenched in warm water once the fire had settled in. He carefully sanitized his thread and needle, stitched the wound shut and bandaged it carefully, then moved them to his bed, covering them in blankets, tugging his warmest hat over their long, light hair to hold in the heat. He put a new pot of water over the fire, adding oats and grains to soften during the night, to be ready for both him and his patient in the morning. At last, he collapsed into his chair by the fire, falling asleep in moments dispite his resolve.

  
Hours later, when the first light of dawn crept out from behind the horizon, the patient awoke. They checked their side and found clean bandages. They pulled the covers from themself, pulled the hat off their head, and crept from the bed to the man sleeping by the hearth, head tipped back, throat exposed, soft snores slipping from his lips. The patient ran a sharp nail across the man's throat with the slightest of smiles. It had been a long, long time since anyone had dared expose themself as such in their presence. They could kill this man without effort, without getting a single drop of blood on themself.  
Instead they leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the man's forhead. A blessing. A thanks. And a promise.

  
Then they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Leorio woke, alone, as he so often did. He hated the silence and the solitude. It reminded him of darker times, of death and the dead and innocence stolen. Part of him believed, until he saw another living being, that he was alone in the universe, surrounded once again only by corpses that not even carrion birds would claim.  
It had been a week since the mysterious, blood soaked child had disappeared in the night, leaving no trace of their presence besides the mud stained cleaning rags on his floor and the mused sheets on his bed. He had carried on with his life, such as it was, as he always had. He wished they had stayed longer, healed a little more before carrying on, but did not begrudge them for their retreat.

  
At least his apprentice would return soon. He hadn't realized how much he loved the boy's bright smiles and loud laughter until they were gone.

  
He rose, stretching his aching bones, then dressed. The clouds had cleared, and the ground had finally dried. He would have to weed the fields again, but maybe the sun would do him good. He coaxed the embers back to life and put the kettle on to boil while he fetched more water from the well. He made himself a quick breakfast of tea, day old bread, and jam he'd been given as payment for curing a neighbor's child of fever, then headed out into the fields.

  
He had three of them, tiny little things, but he only grew what he needed. Herbs and medicinal plants, a few poisonous ones for making antidotes, a handful of vegetables, and final field in which he grew things no other motal man could, and which no mortal man should. Each one needed weeding and pruning, tilling in the spring and summer, and gathering and drying in the fall. He'd planted fruit trees at the edges of his property, and berry bushes grew in abundance along the forest paths.

  
The sun, the cool earth against his bare feet and knees, the fragile stems of his plants in his fingers brought him a peace and comfort that little else could. He worked until the sun had begun its decent back towards the earth, until he was wet from sweat and brown with dirt, but the fields were clear and the plants were well, and his skin felt like his own.

  
He pulled another bucket of water from the well and stripped, bathing with it, pouring it in parts over his head, scrubbing himself with rough soap until his skin was fresh and raw. He was pulling on his shirt again when he felt eyes upon him. He spun, gaze flickering through the woods in pursuit, but he found nothing and slowly entered his home, locking the door firmly behind him.

  
Deep in the trees, hidden behind a briar, a golden wolf watched a moment longer, then turned away.


	3. Chapter 3

"He'll be fine," Leorio announced as he stood, lifting his medicine bag. He turned to the anxious father beside him and gave him a smile he hoped didn't look as tired as he felt. "It's just a mild fever. He needs plenty of rest and fluids. Tea and broth, if you can, anything else will do as long as it's warm. Put as many blankets over him as you can spare and let him sleep it off. Call for me if he gets worse, though it is very unlikely."

  
The man thanked him, pressing into his hand a basketful of fresh eggs as payment as Leorio stepped out of their home.

  
He couldn't eat them, but Gon would. He loved cracking an egg open into his mouth on hotter days, greedily catching with his tongue the juices that escaped his lips.

  
He turned towards the bakery, trading a few eggs for three loaves of fresh bread. The baker always offered to give them to him for free, he'd saved her husband's leg from being amputated after an accident in the barley fields, but he always insisted on paying, same as everyone else. His creed demanded it.

  
Loaves tucked into the basket, he finally headed home. He had some cleaning to do before his apprentice returned.

  
He was just reaching the deepest part of the forest when, without warning, a flash of golden fur crossed the path before him, a bone chilling howl echoing through the trees. Birds alighted, small animals ran for cover, but Leorio feared little and continued on his way.

  
Then, from out of the shadows emerged a tall, elegant figure. The dress they wore exposed an ample bosom, but Leorio was more concerned with the modern pistols they were playing with. Once, he would have been distracted by the person's beauty, but those day's were past, left behind with the battlefields and a long dead prince.

  
"You are the healer?" The person asked.

  
Leorio nodded, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

  
"You will come with me."

  
"I need to return to my home first."

  
The person stared at him, expression unreadable. "Very well," they said at last.

  
Leorio stepped around them carefully, eyeing their weapons and attempting to convey that he wouldn't do anything that would warrant their use.

  
Once home, he left the basket and a note to Gon that he had been called away, then refilled his medical bag and grabbed his best traveling cloak. The person said nothing, just watched his every move with sharp eyes. "I am ready," he said.

  
The person nodded, motioning him out the door. He locked it behind them.

  
"What ails my patient?" He asked as they strode out into the forest.

  
"You will be briefed when we arrive."

  
Someone important then, and something sensitive. He had seen to nobility before, tended many monarchs, not all of them the human kind.

  
When they came to a side road, far from town, there was a carriage waiting. The outside was plainer than he expected, clearly meant to pass as inconspicuously as possible through the roads. Another person, large, imposing, with facial scars and earlobes stretched to their shoulders, sat on the driver's bench.

  
The person with the pistols opened the carriage door for him, then climbed in after, settling on the seat across from him. They rapped the top of the carriage twice with their gun, and it rocked into motion.

  
When the person remained silent as minutes stretched by, Leorio turned and focused his attention on the passing scenery. There was no point in trying to gain answers from one who had clearly been instructed to give none.

It was a long ride, and Leorio silently wondered at how much the land around his tiny pocket had shifted in the years since he had last traveled it. Towns had developed, forests had expanded or been thinned, rivers had changed their courses. He recognized a few people as they passed: a woman who had come to him for a remedy for her barrenness, now with a child who shared her hair and skin perched on her hip; a child who had been born with twisted legs now running freely with their friends; an old man who had been close to death with a tumor in his lungs now laughing with his son. He smiled, a flicker of something close to joy, the closest he got to such an emotion these days. He rarely saw those who were healthy, those he had helped. Sometimes they would visit him, or send him a letter or gift, but mostly they were distracted by living their lives, and that was alright.

  
They rode for hours, through the night and into the next morning. Leorio was blinking back his exhaustion when a flash of white caught his eye outside the window. A white... hawk? He rubbed his eyes and looked again, certain that his eyes had been playing tricks on him, but there it was flying alongside the carriage. It seemed to meet his eyes, then it banked away. He nearly craned to follow it, but he knew some mysteries where not meant to have attention drawn to them.

  
At last, the carrage drew up to a well fortified palace and his companion spoke. "We have arrived. You will obey all orders you are given. You will go nowhere without an escort. You will speak to no one unless instructed to. If you require anything, you will inform your escort and it will be provided. Is that understood?"

  
"Yes," Leorio replied. Typical rules for castle dwellers. Privacy and discretion were valued above all else.

  
"Very good. You will follow me." His companion stepped out of the carriage and, without waiting for him to do the same, took off towards the door. He hurried after them.

  
The main hall was extravagantly elegant. The vaulted ceiling held a crystal chandelier larger in radius than he was tall, and the floor was made of marble. Along the edges of the room were display stands and cases, each one holding a rare or antique item of incredible value. The opulence did not impress Leorio. He had seen many fine palaces, had even stayed in one woven out of soft spring sunlight and accented with fat, dark rain clouds. In comparison, even the most glorious of human structures could not hold a light to such a place. Besides, he preferred the quiet beauty of his fruit trees in bloom or a field of wheat in late summer, which was a far more precious gold than the cold, polished kind in this hall.

  
At the far end was another set of ornate doors, which lead into an even more wastefully expensive throne room. He focused his attention on the person sitting forward, chin on their clasped hands, on the imposing throne. Their eyes were black as night, their hair the same. A magemark was tattooed across their forehead, though it wasn't one Leorio recognized. About their shoulders and over their bare chest was a fur cloak, the white ruff a symbol of their status.

  
"My lord," his escort spoke, kneeling briefly before the throne. "I've brought the healer."

  
The lord flicked a hand to dismiss them, then turned his cold, dead eyes to Leorio. "Welcome, Healer Lyon. Your reputation precedes you."

  
Leorio lowered his head. "You flatter me, my lord," he replied, using the same honorific as his escort had. "I only do my best."

  
"I am sure you will continue to do so while you work for me. Phinks?" The lord called to one of the others in the room. "Show the man to his room."

  
"I'm sorry, my lord," Leorio cautiously interjected, "but I must make one thing clear. I follow the ancient healer's creed, and as such, I cannot be kept on retainer. If there is a patient who needs care, I am more than willing to provide it, but if there is not I must be on my way."

  
The lord's eyes slowly returned to him. "That is... unfortunate, though not ultimately disastrous. I suspect there will be much need for your skills here. How long may you remain?"

  
"Until my patients are in good health."

  
"Very well. I would still request that you rest for the remainder of the day. You may meet with your patient this evening after supper."

  
Leorio considered it. He did need to sleep, and eat, and relieve himself. He was of no use to anyone in his current state. "Thank you, my lord. That is most kind."

  
He was led by the person called Phinks to a richly decorated guest room. A platter of food had been left on a table by the roaring fire.

  
"If you want a bath, one will be arranged," Phinks said, though it was clear they cared very little about him or his needs.

  
"Perhaps later. I would like to sleep now."

  
Phinks nodded, then stepped out of the room. Leorio did not miss the thud as the door was locked on him. He set his bag down beside the fire and went to the bathroom to relieve himself, returning to throw himself on the rug in before the fire. He moved the plate of delicacies to the floor to pick at it. He ignored the wine and the meat, instead popping small pieces of fruit and bread into his mouth. The bread was light and fluffy, entirely unlike the thick, dense pumpernickel he preferred, and the fruit was bland, but he was hungry and ate quickly anyway. Once he was done, he rested his head on his arm and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, apparently the amount of stuff I know about eggs is not normal so here we go.
> 
> People used to eat raw eggs. They were safe to eat that way back then, because the ecoli and salmonella stuff is a danger because we've bred egg shells to be so thin and then we power wash them, which can actually push bacteria through the shell. Essentially, we're powerwashing particals of feces through the shells, and that's why they're dangerous.
> 
> Also, Leorio is vegetarian. The reason he has a thing against eggs is because at the time, chickens were more free range, as were the roosters, so it's never guaranteed that your egg won't be fertilized. I have an irrational fear of cracking open an egg and finding a dead, half developed chick, so now Leorio does too because projecting my issues onto people is all I do as an author lol.
> 
> Why do I know so much about eggs? Who knows!


	4. Chapter 4

When Leorio woke, hours later, he immediately called for a bath. To his surprise, Phinks was the one to bring the water in. They didn't seem to be a servant, yet a noble willing to pour another's bath was unthinkable. Nothing in this place made sense, but then, nobles rarely ever did these days.

  
He dressed again when he was done, then read through his medical notes while he waited to be called to supper.

  
At last, he was escorted down to the formal dining room, where a table with fourteen chairs stood, one on either end and six on each of the longer sides. A motley crew sat around it, and he was directed sharply to one of the end seats, across from the enormous, thronelike chair which was clearly saved for the lord of the castle.

  
Supper was laid out on the table already, and Leorio saw no servants in the hall. Was this normal, or was his presence truly such a secret that none could know? He thought they might wait for their lord before beginning, but they did not. Several engaged in lively conversation, filled with base language and obnoxious laughter, but many ate silently, pointedly ignoring the others unless spoken to directly. No one included or engaged him, so he ate what little he could. He would soon have to ask to be provided with beans or nuts, since while he could survive off bread and fresh fruits and vegetables, he would prefer not to. And of course he would have to be catious of what dishes were cooked with lard rather than butter.

  
The meal was very nearly over when the lord entered. The conversation fell abruptly silent, but quickly started up again with a permissory wave of the lord's hand.  
The lord did not eat, watching the chaos with disinterested eyes. When the rest of the group was finished, they were dismissed, but when Leorio moved to rise, the lord held up their hand to halt him.

  
"Did the food displease you?" They asked. "Your plate bares no bones."

  
"The meal was excellent, my lord, but I do not eat meat, nor anything else that is created through the death of an animal."

  
"Your creed demands this?"

  
Leorio shook his head. "There is a rule to a similar effect, but it is not specified. I simply have no taste for it."

  
"I will have my chef informed. Changes will be made."

  
"Thank you, my lord." Leorio hesitated a moment, then spoke. "Pardon me, my lord. I hope I do not overstep, but I have a favour to ask."

  
The lord stared at him. "I will hear it, though I reserve the right to deny you."

  
"That is very well, my lord. I wonder if you could tell me the gender of yourself and the others I have seen tonight, that I might know what to call them."

  
"A strange question, and one I have never heard before. Can you not tell for yourself? I would think a healer would be able to determine such a simple thing."

  
"I apologize for the oddity, but I have traveled much and I have met many who are not what they might seem. I have found it is best not to assume."

  
"Your question, it seems, is not as strange as you. But this is a favour that is easily granted and your skills are worth more than a little madness." Leorio inwardly growled at the lord's dismissive attitude, but by now he was used to such close mindedness. "We are all what we appear to be, though there is a young boy in our circle who wears the garb of his people, which looks very much like a dress, and there is another who is of dæmonkind, rare addition though it may be."

  
It was an answer, and Leorio supposed that while he found it unsatisfactory, he would have to make do. "Thank you, my lord. I appreciate it."

  
The man nodded. "If that is all, I presume you would like to see your patient now?"

  
"Yes please, my lord," Leorio said, grateful for the distraction.

  
The man stood, gesturing for Leorio to follow him out of the room. They walked down into a dungeon, Leorio's concern growing with each descending step. He couldn't refuse care, but he also couldn't intrude on matters that were not related to his practice. He was neither judge nor jury: he was a healer only. No matter who or what was down here, no matter why, he was forbidden from interfering.

  
At last, they came to a stop before a cell. There was a torch behind them, but the light was dim enough that the cell appeared, at first, to be empty. Then a low, bloodcurdling growl set the hair on the back of Leorio's neck rising.

  
"My best hound," the man said as explanation. "A beast loyal to nothing and no one but me. Injured in our last... hunt." Leorio disliked the delay in the explanation. Clearly there was more to this story. "Heal it and I will tell you the real reason you were brought here."

  
Leorio tried to keep his wariness to himself. He hadn't expected a test. It would be simple enough, of course, for someone with his skills and gifts, but it felt...wrong, somehow. Suspicious.

  
"Very well, my lord. Though I prefer to do my work alone. I focus better without unnecessary eyes upon me."

  
The man handed him a key. "You will have your way, healer. However, if you take longer than an hour I will return to confirm if you have been killed." With that last, cheery statement, he was gone, seeming to melt into the shadows.

  
Alone with the hound, Leorio let out a heavy sigh, then took a deep, steadying breath and began. "Hello, little one," he said softly, voice layered with gentle, open, trustworthy tones. "I'm here to help you."

  
The growl remained hostile.

  
"I know you're frightened. I don't blame you, stuck here in the dark, trapped, hurt, alone." Something in him resonated with the words, something he didn't recognize, something other than the great, yearning emptiness that consumed him. "Your kind aren't meant to be alone."

  
The growl faltered. Ah, it was working.

  
"You are meant to run free, in the sun, with your pack at your side. I can only help you a little, but I understand. I understand you." And he did, didn't he?  
The growl turned into a whimper.

  
"May I come in, little one? I have to check your wounds."

  
There was a halfhearted snarl.

  
"Alright then, I won't yet. That's fine, you can take your time." He was silent for a moment, then slid his back down the door until he was seated and spoke quietly. "I'm alone too, you know. I lost my pack a long time ago, though it wasn't exactly like yours. I had a mate, too, back then. But they are all long dead now. I'm the only one left." It wasn't at all what he'd meant to say, it had just slipped out of his mouth.

  
There was a quiet, mournful whine.

  
"You too?" Leorio asked, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder at the dark cell. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm not sure why I did, to tell the truth. I haven't spoken to... well, anyone about it. I suppose I sensed a kindred spirit." He shut his eyes. "I feel like I'm trapped too, all alone in the dark. I'm not sure I'd even recognize light if I saw it, I've been locked away so long."

  
He was startled when a wet nose pressed against his neck, but kept his eyes shut. He didn't know when the animal had moved, or how it had done so silently, but he settled as it dragged its tongue comfortingly across his ear with a soft whine. He leaned gently into its touch, filled with a sensation he had long ago forgotten: comfort. He was the one who comforted, never the reverse. "I am a bad man, and a worse healer. I'm supposed to be helping you, and yet here I am, making you move around with your wounds and take care of me."

  
The dog whined and licked him again.

  
Leorio carefully brought his hand up and slowly began to pet its snout. "You are such a sweet thing. If I weren't forbidden by my creed I would take you from this place. I have a little house in a forest where you could run and an apprentice boy you could play with. I don't know what I'd feed you, but I'm sure I could work something out. I could make you a soft bed in front of the fire and spoil you rotten. Maybe neither of us would have to be alone anymore."

  
The beast nuzzled into his hand.

  
"It's a pretty dream isn't it?"

  
The dog made a soft noise of agreement.

  
They sat together for a while longer before he sighed. "Much as I wish I could remain like this with you, I'm afraid I do have a deadline, and you, little one, are still hurt. May I come in now and take a look at you?"

  
The hound snuffled and the snout retreated back through the bars.

  
"Thank you," he said as he stood, grabbing the torch from the far wall and putting the key in the lock. As he stepped inside, he realized he'd been deceived.  
This was no simple hunting hound. He'd thought, from the size and height of the snout, that perhaps it was one of the bigger breeds. He'd been wrong, but then, he'd also been lied to. What sat, patiently, in the cell was a large, golden wolf; scarlet eyes intelligent as they reflected the light of the torch.

  
"You..." he said, remembering the flash of golden fur he'd seen the day before. /You were there yesterday/, he meant to say. /You are magic/, he meant to say. "You are beautiful," he actually said.

  
The wolf looked away, seeming almost shy.

  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. I didn't... I didn't realize... I was told you were a regular dog."

  
The wolf stepped forward, paws silent on the cold ground, and pressed its nose into his palm. Its eyes seemed to say /its alright. I forgive you./

  
Slightly embarrassed, Leorio knelt before it, his face nearly level with its. "I... may I take a look at your wounds?"

  
The wolf lay down, then rolled to one side. There was a surface gash along its stomach and the blood looked freshly crusted over, its fur badly matted with it.

  
"That looks unpleasant. I'm going to touch you now, alright? Tell me if it hurts when I press down." He reached out and pushed softly around the wound, and the wolf immediately yelped and snarled. He quickly withdrew his hand. "I'm sorry, it's alright. That just means that the wound is infected. I'm going to have to clean it really thoroughly, and it will probably hurt quite a bit."

  
The wolf put its head on the ground and whimpered.

  
"I'm sorry. I can give you some willow bark to chew on, but it doesn't work particularly well on wolves."

  
The wolf closed its eyes and huffed out a sigh.

  
"I'm sorry," Leorio repeated, fishing through his bag to pull out his bottle of purified water and his cleaning alcohol. He hated to use it on an animal that had clearly seen so much pain, but he had to kill the infection. He tugged out one of his cleaning clothes and first poured water on it, cleaning off as much excess blood as he could, as gently as he could, murmuring encouragement and apologies as the wolf whined. Once he finished, the scab had cracked and was beginning to weep blood and puss, and Leorio set down the bottle of water and picked up the alcohol. "I'm sorry, little one. This will all be over soon." He poured the liquid onto the rag, the pungent smell filling the tiny cell, and pressed it to the wound.

  
The wolf howled and bucked, and he had to use his other hand to hold it still as he cleaned as quickly as he could. He didn't so much as flinch when the wolf curled forwards and, snarling, sank its fangs into his arm.

  
At last it was over, and Leorio, arm still impaled by the wolf's teeth, set the rag on the floor and used his other hand to pull out bandages and a soothing solution that would help keep the wound clean and encourage healing.

  
The wolf's heaving chest slowed, its eyes slowly lost their wild glint, and its clenching jaw loosened a fraction at a time. Leorio had nearly finished wrapping the bandage around it when it opened its jaws with a whimper and licked apologetically at the blood that welled from the punctures.

  
"It's alright, little one. I know it hurt. It's alright," he cooed softly, finishing with the bandage before he lifted his hand to the wolf's head, gently petting it. "We all hurt people on accident sometimes. But that's all it was: an accident. I know you were just frightened and it hurt. I know you didn't mean it."

  
The wolf leaned into his touch, licking at his hand and forearm.

  
"That's right," Leorio whispered. "You're fine. I'm fine. Rest now, little one. I'll need to check your bandages tomorrow morning. Sleep as much as you can. I'll ask them to bring you something easy to eat." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of the wolf's head.

  
The wolf sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the touch of lips to its head, then watched longingly as the healer packed his bag, stroking its head one last time before he left, locking the door. Once he was gone, the wolf closed its eyes again, dreaming of kind words and kisses, of a life in a little house in the forest with the sun on its back and a pack at its side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good lord the world building I've put into this. If at any point anyone wants me to try to write a Tolkien-esque world summary I will try to without spoilers.

Leorio scratched absently at his upper arm. The wound was already healing, though he'd had to change shirts to hide the blood and the tearing. The lord of the castle was waiting by the foot of the stairs.

  
"You are indeed the miracle worker you claim to be."

  
Leorio shrugged. "It was frightened and in pain. Many who need my aid are. I would be a fool to call myself a healer if I failed to tend to a patient simply because they were frightened."

  
"That beast has maimed or killed dozens of men for much less."

  
Leorio could, unfortunately, believe that statement. He had seen it in the wolf's eyes. It was a highly intelligent creature, kind and gentle in nature, but it had clearly been traumatized; trained to lash out, to attack, to hurt, to defend itself. "I have trained to handle animals like it."

  
The man stared at him. "I am greatly impressed with your skills. Come."

  
Leorio followed obediently as they trailed back up the stairs, then into a new wing of the palace. A set of enormous doors opened into a bed chamber almost as large as the throne room had been, and similarly decorated.

  
The man stepped into the center of the room and slid his fur cloak off his shoulders. It puddled at his feet.

  
Leorio stepped forwards, draw instinctively to the brand on the man's back. It looked fresh, the skin still weeping and unhealed. The mark seemed to be two lines, a long vertical one intersected two-thirds of the way down by a shorter horizontal one.

  
The wound was very fresh. It could only have happened within the last few minutes, which was impossible. Unless... but no, it couldn't be. But mustn't it? "My lord, where did you get this?" Leorio asked, swallowing down the tremble in his voice.

  
"It was five years ago. I was attacked by a child."

  
"No child could have left this mark," Leorio said sharply. "No mere child has the knowledge or the skill."

  
"You know what it is then?"

  
Leorio nodded, though the man still had his back to him. "A cursemark. Old magic. Powerful and dark. The art has been lost for a thousand years at least, since the last of the dæmon wars. Only dæmons can work them."

  
"You are very well schooled in history."

  
"I had an excellent teacher," Leorio replied truthfully. "The best."

  
"Then you should know there are still a few who have the ability."

  
"The Demis, yes, but they keep to themselves, far to the south. They are a peaceful race mainly, though some have used their powers for ill. But even when true dæmons still roamed, the art of curses was very rare. I do not believe it was passed on to many."

  
"But a Demi could have the ability to curse, yes?"

  
"Yes."

  
"Even a child?"

  
"Yes." It was a cruel art. To inflict pain took pain. Those who learned the art must first experience great tragedy, great suffering, either physical or mental. The greater that suffering, the more powerful the curse.

  
"The child who attacked me was a Demi. I defended myself, managed to reverse part of the curse, but the child's power was strong. The curse remains, in a fashion, and I wish to have it removed. I have heard you work miracles. Perform one for me now and you will be a very rich man."

  
Leorio frowned. "I care little for riches, my lord. But I cannot refuse a patient. It may be possible for me to find a cure, but it would take a great deal of time and research. I have never heard of one being reversed, nor removed, but I will try."

  
"Anything you need will be provided," the man said as he turned to face him.

  
"Thank you, my lord. I have many questions to ask about the nature of your curse and the methods with which you rebuked it, and another favour."

  
"Your questions can wait until morning, and as to your favour, it can be no stranger than your previous one."

  
"Your hound needs more tending and better conditions if you wish for it to heal."

  
The man stared at him. "It seems I was wrong in my assumption. You are not only mad, but a fool. You may have escaped its jaws once, but you will hardly be so lucky again, and I will not risk my chance to being cured over a dog." Leorio opened his mouth, but the man held up a hand. "That is final."

  
"I cannot deny treatment. I mean no disrespect, but my creed's laws are greater than yours."

  
The man sighed. "One hour a day, that is all, healer. But this is the last favour you will be granted. You may be a miracle worker, but I doubt very much that you are irreplaceable. Do not tempt me further."

  
Leorio bowed. "Understood, my lord."

  
"You are dismissed. One of my people waits outside to see you to your room. I will summon you tomorrow."

  
"Yes, my lord." Leorio backed out of the room. On the walk back to his room, accompanied by a small, silent man in a cowled black coat, he considered the cursemark. He had seen curses at work before. Cruel, vengeance fueled, violent magic. He had seen armies turned to stone, seen people slowly eaten from the inside, seen creatures driven to insanity as all the nerves in their bodies were set aflame, and worse. There had never been a way to reverse a curse. That had been part of what ended the Dæmon Wars; the more slaughter, the more vengeance sought, the more curses and the more powerful the curses. A seemingly neverending cycle, halted only when all sides agreed that their wars were not worth the genocide of their peoples.

  
Leorio, by the nature of his birth, was immune to dark magic, but this blessing could hardly be replicated. Indeed, the only beings he knew who might be able to reverse such a thing were long gone from this world, returned into the ether of their home realm where even he could not follow. Of course, there was a way to overrule the curse. A way to end the misery of one who suffered from it, but that was nearly as impossible as the other ways. But then, the man had managed to reverse it, so perhaps he had uncovered a new source of power Leorio was unfamiliar with.

  
He slept little that night, instead reviewing all he knew about cursework. He had seen the process performed once, many years ago, but it was the kind of thing to be forgotten. All of the preparation was done in advance, the chanting, the movements, the charging. Once it was done, all that was left was to gain proximity to the target. Sometimes direct touch was needed, sometimes not, though often it was more effective.

  
He made a list of the questions he needed to ask in the morning, and at last blew out his candle.


	6. Chapter 6

Morning crept in quietly, and Leorio could feel the strange nature of this place in the silence outside his windows. No chirping birds or chattering servents, nothing but the slight touch of careful magic. Leorio rose and stretched his aching bones, then gathered his things and knocked on the door of his chambers. It opened quickly, revealing the pink haired woman he'd seen at dinner the night before.

  
"I would like to visit the kitchens and then have my hour with the hound," he stated.

  
She gave him a bored look, then gestured for him to follow.

  
Surely enough, the kitchen was devoid of servants, an odd occurrence in a place where they usually bustled frantically at this time of day, beginning preparations for the meals they were to make. He checked the larder and found it to be almost entirely empty. He did however find the remnants of dinner, and he carefully determined what of it was still edible, cutting the meat into thin slivers and mashing some of the fruit and berries. Then he found his way back to the dungeon, leaving his escort at the entrance.

  
"Hello, little one," he said softly. "I brought you something to eat."

  
The wolf yipped a quiet greeting as Leorio opened the cell door, smiling as he saw the wolf's tail thumping against the ground.

  
"I'm happy to see you too, sweetling. I tried to get you moved to my rooms, but I was denied. I hope you'll forgive me."

  
The wolf eyed the food in his hand, then met his eyes again. /Maybe I will if you feed me/, the look implied.

  
Leorio sat beside it and used the meat to scoop up some of the fruit, then held it out to his companion. "Here. Eat up."

  
The wolf greedily snapped it out of his hand, chewing messily and swallowing before turning pleading eyes back to him and nuzzling his hand for more. Leorio chuckled and prepared another piece, then another and another until the wolf was sated. It placed its head in his lap and made tiny, happy sounds as Leorio scratched its head.

  
"Do you have water?" He asked, stroking its velvet ear.

  
The wolf made a grunt Leorio took as an affirmative.

  
"May I take a look at your wound again? Unfortunately, I may have to clean it once more."

  
The wolf shuddered, but rolled to expose its belly. Leorio was glad to see that the bandages were mostly clean, and red rather than the yellow or green of pus. He unwrapped it carefully. "It looks good," he said. "I think I can simply rinse it with water. You heal very well."

  
The wolf's tail wagged. As Leorio rinsed and rebandaged the wound, the wolf pressed its nose to his upper arm where its teeth had punctured his flesh, a question in its eyes.

  
"It's all better now. I heal very well, too," he joked. The wolf licked his cheek in response.

  
The rest of the hour passed quickly, and Leorio spent most of it with his hands buried in the wolf's coarse fur as it lay curled up beside him. They conversed, in their limited way, but mostly they just enjoyed the break in their solitude.

  
When Leorio at last had to leave, he promised he would return at the same time the next day and provide a better meal if he could, then peppered the wolf's snout in wet kisses, which the wolf returned just as readily.

  
Leorio's escort was exactly where he had left her. As he approached, she put away her needlework.

  
"You're alive," she said, feigning boredom to cover her suprise.

  
"Yes," he replied shortly. He understood that the animal could seem vicious to some, but he had already treated it once without injury, at least that they knew of, so why they were all still so surprised he didn't understand.

  
He was lead back to the lord's bedchambers, and found his other patient waiting for him, still naked to the waist.

  
"Welcome, healer."

  
"I am at your disposal, my lord. May I begin my examination?"

  
The man nodded and turned to offer Leorio a better view of his mark.

  
"I understand your desire for privacy, my lord, but I have many questions about how you attained this mark."

  
"I will answer the ones I find relevant," the man said curtly.

  
Leorio almost rolled his eyes. "Firstly, my lord, did you recognize the child who cursed you?"

  
"I recognized him as a member of his tribe."

  
Leorio made note of his reply in his notes. "This is typically a vengeance based magic. Did you do him any terrible wrong?"

  
"Yes."

  
"Did you ever determine what the curse was intended to do?"

  
The man answered readily. "I believe the intention was to bind me eternally to Hell."

  
Leorio was silent for a moment. He had been to Hell several times, one of the many dæmon realms, a place of nightmares made corporeal. But, just as nightmares faded after waking, Hell was not an endpoint, but rather a temporary pause in the journey of a soul. All went there; it was only a matter of how long a soul remained. To be bound eternally... it was a cruel fate even for a curse, and it would take a very powerful suffering to manage.

  
"How did you rebuke it?" He asked, carefully.

  
"With magic."

  
It was more of a reply than Leorio had expected, but still useless to him. "Please, my lord, I must know more."

  
"I have a certain power that allowed me to reflect a portion of the curse back at the wielder. That is all you will know."

  
"Very well, my lord. What become of the child?"

  
"He was also affected by half of the curse."

  
Getting answers from this man was like getting the fleas off a farm dog. "Please, tell me how you and the boy were effected. I only wish to serve, and I am no threat to you. I will never tell a soul."

  
"This knowledge is one of my greatest secrets. Reveal it in any way and your life is forfeit."

  
An unimpressive threat to one such as Leorio. It would take more than this man to end his existence.

  
"Due to the nature of my magic, I retained only part of the curse. I am doomed forever, it seems, to be static. I am trapped in exactly the moment when I was cursed. I neither eat nor sleep nor drink nor lust and while I can not be wounded, I also cannot heal. I have been this way for five years."

  
Leorio scribbled everything down hastily.

  
"The boy was effected by the other part. He is bound, in a way, to his own personal Hell." Leorio opened his mouth to speak, but the man silenced him. "I will speak no more of this."

  
Leorio recognized his tone and backed down. "Thank you, my lord. I will do my best."

  
He was soon dismissed and returned to his room, where he found a collection of books on curses and a plate of food, all of which he recognized as things he could eat. While he perused the books, he considered the predicament. He wished he understood better how the man's magic worked, but he hoped he would be able to work out a solution without that knowledge.


End file.
